Dance With the Devil
by ElletheUndead
Summary: DeWitt had made his worst mistake. He had gambled with powerful demons and had lost his daughter to them. But when he is approached by the female demon once more, offering an enticing proposition, he possibly cannot refuse. Unfortunately, it's not a wise choice to put your trust in demons...or dance with them. ((AU in which Robert and Rosalind are demons and Anna is taken by them.)


_So, this was requested that I write and I absolutely adore RobertXElizabeth._

_So I hope you enjoy. Constructive criticism and reviews are much appreciated! Thank you! And this is definitely an AU, so things will be quite different.-_

_Elle_

* * *

He remembered the night clearly. October 7th, 1956. How could he forget? The day that they took his daughter, a poor young girl of seventeen. She had gone so willingly with him. He had offered her false kindness and she had gone with him as the man had been held back by the woman, who cooed in his ear. He had held back tears as he saw his daughter walk off with the man. That was the last time he had saw her.

October 7th, 1956. He could never forget it.

* * *

_October 7th, 1956, 12:33 A.M_

He was a private investigator. A private investigator who made no money at all.

He was a private investigator.

He was a gambler.

He was a drunk.

He was a father.

He was Booker DeWitt.

And on this particular night, the gambler had come home drunk, letting out cackles and grabbing the whiskey bottle on his desk. He took a swig out of it and stumbled into his daughter's room. She was awake, frowning at him and shaking her head. He frowned back. He knew how disappointed she was at him and it hurt him. He didn't want to disappoint his daughter. He stumbled to her bed and sat down next to her, burping. The girl sighed and began to sing softly to herself, grabbing a comb and beginning to brush the curls out of her shoulder length hair.

"H..hello, sweetheart," Booker mumbled, kissing her forehead. She frowned once more.

"Dad, you're late."

"I..I know, Anna, I know." He let out a sigh. "I lost."

"What a surprise," she mumbled, rolling her blue eyes. He shook his head.

"I'm sorr.. ...I'mma make...i..it up to you..."

"You always say that, Daddy."

"I promise."

"You always promise."

"Anna...Anna, I'm sorry." She looked away and shook her head, standing up. He frowned and walked outside of her room and onto a chair. He ran a hand across his face and groaned, leaning back. Anna didn't deserve this life. She deserved much more. She was supposed to be a princess, living in a castle with the newest fashions. Instead, she had been stuck living in an old interrogation room of a private detective's office. She was stuck with hand me downs, which were stained and too small for her. He ran a hand through his hair. He lost. Anna thought he meant money, but it was not money that he had lost while gambling.

It was Anna.

He had put his only child on the line and now they were going to come at any minute and take her away from him. He grabbed a gun from his desk and waited.

The seconds were going by at an antagonizing rate. Perhaps they wouldn't come for Anna? They didn't need her, anyways. Perhaps they had decided to let it slide this one time.

After all, it was a seventeen year old girl that they had won.

He brought the bottle to his lips when he heard knocking on the door. He scrambled off of his chair and grabbed his gun. He would not open the door. Another knock. He slowly inched towards the door.

"Mr. DeWitt," a female voice called from outside, "Do open the door, it is a bit chilly out here!"

"Like hell I will," Booker mumbled.

"If you refuse to open the door, Mr. DeWitt," a male voice called out, "We shall have to force ourselves in. And you truly do not want that, do you?" Booker muttered something and opened the door slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked, looking down to the ground.

"Chin up," the female said. Booker slowly raised his head to face the two gingers that he had lost a bet with. The female smiled at him. "Perfect."

"What is it?"

"Oh, Mr. DeWitt," the man began, "You know exactly what it is and who we want. Must we really state it once more?"

"You ain't getting Anna."

"A gamble is a gamble, and you lost. Therefore, we are here to collect our payment," the woman replied, her smile becoming wider, flashing sharp teeth. Booker raised an eyebrow and slowly shook his head.

"You ain't getting Anna."

"Mr. DeWitt, you saying that statement will not help. We will take her. She'll be in perfectly capable hands. I can assure you of that."

"Get the fuck away before I shoot you in the goddamn head. Both of you."

The female chuckled a bit at Booker's last statement. The man kept a stoic face and placed his hands behind his back.

"Mr. DeWitt," the man began, "I can promise you that we shall provide the absolute best for Anna. Now, give us the girl." Booker shook his head and began closing the door. The man put a hand up and pushed the door open, his eyes flashing red for a mere moment. "Mr. DeWitt, if you please." Booker's eyes widened and he stepped away from the door, terrified by the man's eyes flashing. The two walked inside. "It smells of liquor, Mr. DeWitt."

"Yes, and?"

"Has your daughter truly grown up in such a harsh and bleak environment? How _unfortunate._ I can assure you she will have a much happier place to stay in with us."

"YOU'RE NOT FUCKING TAKING HER!" He pulled his gun out. The twins looked at each other and began laughing. The woman turned to face Booker again.

"Oh, Mr. DeWitt," the woman said, "A gun won't kill us at all." Her eyes flashed red for a split moment and Booker stared at her, mortified. He did not let go of the gun. "Where is the girl?"

The door of Anna's bedroom was opened and the girl herself stepped out. She was dressed in a white nightgown and her hair was tied back with a white ribbon. She frowned.

"I'm trying to go to sleep," Anna began. The ginger man turned to face her.

"I apologize, miss," he began, walking towards her and extending his hand. "My name is Robert Lutece. I assume you must be the young DeWitt? Anna, was it?" She smiled slightly and extended her hand, as well. Robert gently raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, bowing slightly. She blushed a bit.

"I'm Anna. Anna DeWitt."

"I apologize for us coming so late at night, Miss Anna." She shrugged.

"Anna..." Booker slowly inched towards Robert and Anna, aiming his gun at Robert. "Anna, stay the fuck away from him. He means nothing but trouble."

"Mr. DeWitt!" the woman feigned a look of shock. "You must not use such harsh words around your darling, innocent daughter."

"Anna, don't listen to them. They want to take you away from me." Anna let go of Robert's hand and stepped back cautiously. Robert frowned.

"Miss Anna, I mean no harm," he replied. "Your father has a debt to pay and you are the payment. I promise you this, my sister and I shall treat you like a princess. How does that sound?"

Anna looked at Booker, breathing heavily. "YOU SOLD ME?!"

"Anna, it's not like th-"

"It's exactly that, Mr. DeWitt," the woman interjected. "Anna, we shall provide everything you need. That is a promise." Anna kept looking at Booker, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Anna, follow Robert. I shall stay here with your father."

Robert smiled sweetly at the girl and held out his hand once more.

"Come now, I shan't hurt you," he said, grabbing her small hand gently. She followed him, looking at Booker one last time, shaking her head. Robert loved how willing this girl was. She was like a poor lamb being led to the slaughter.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Booker began to run towards Robert, but the woman held him back. He tried to free herself from her grip, but she was incredibly strong. "GET AWAY, YOU GODDAMN BASTARD, GET AWAY, GET AWAY!"

Robert smirked as he walked away with Anna.

"ANNA! NO!"

* * *

_October 7th, 1959_

How many years had it been? Far too many' that was a given.

He stared at the door. The same door that his young daughter had been led out of by a demon.

At the time, he hadn't believed that demons existed. No, they were just a thing of myth. But he had learned the truth later on. Half a year after his Anna had been taken from him.

He shivered as he continued staring at the door. She would never come back. He sighed and looked at a picture of his daughter that lay on his desk. He bit his lip and shook his head.

"I am _so_ sorry, Anna." He slowly lifted the picture and traced his fingers along the picture, lingering on her smile. "God damn it, I'm an idiot." He shook his head and set the picture down. He began dozing off to sleep when he heard a violent knock on the door.

"Mr. DeWitt," the voice of a familiar female called, "Mr. DeWitt, open this door at once." Booker got out of his chair and opened the door. He looked straight into the deep red eyes of the ginger female. He managed a small smile.

"Rosalind."

"It's been quite a long time."

"Why are you here?"

"Ah, skipping the formalities." She walked inside. "I have an offer to propose to you. It may just get you Anna back."

* * *

_I'm sorry if the first chapter was a bit dull, I really am. I still do hope you enjoy._


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